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by Naniwise (orphan_account)



Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Dancing, Gen, I Don't Even Know, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Not Beta Read, Please Don't Hate Me, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-20 00:40:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14249328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Naniwise
Summary: Weird fantasy au. I'm not sure, honestly. I'm a pretty new VIP and I just..... I don't know. Please read. Its my first work for this forum..... I'll shut up now.





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**Author's Note:**

> One thing to be said is that, well, I'm an idiot and this was supposed to be better, but its not because I didn't try. This idea has been bothering me for a while and I just wanted to get it out. I apologize for how terrible and short and final fantasy-ish it is. I really do love big bang, I'm telling you. I just will probably never be able to do them justice with my random spurts of inspiration.
> 
> Also, this isn't really about them. Its just.... Like.... Inspired by them..... And stuff.....
> 
> I own nothing. Please enjoy.

Seunghyun opened his eyes to the piercing light of the white abyss that greeted him upon jolting awake.

 

The startled cry of the warrior upon returning to consciousness ran through the empty spaces like water through cracks and returned to his ears a hundred times over, each relapse of his own voice like needles to his aching skull.

 

When he jolted awake, Seunghyun was more than startled to find a fire, a fury of aches and pains, swiftly consuming his right leg, abdomen, and head, throws agony pulsating to the beat of his quickened heartbeat like the rhythm of a cruel melody.

 

The warrior soon found his strength failing him, knees buckling and back giving out. It was only a burst of reflexive energy that caused his arms to push forward and catch him before he fell on his face.

 

His breath heaved through him, forcing his aching chest out as far as it would go.

 

Through blurred vision, Seunghyun’s burning eyes could at least decipher the vision placed before him.

 

His bloodied hands, visibly bruised and beaten through the cracks in his mithril gauntlet by continual years spent in the heat of the battlefield, gripped at vivid green moss, still wet with life, tearing it up from the loose dirt where it resided in large healthy patches.

 

A forest? But where did such a forest reside? 

 

He forced his head up to gaze upon the serene scenery.

 

It had the appearance of the land he knew as a child, but Seunghyun knew better than anyone that the forest village he called his childhood home had been set ablaze by the horde, burnt to the ground fifteen years ago, killing everyone except himself.

 

This was what changed him forever.

 

This was what drove him half mad with rage, to train his body and spirit till the point of breaking as a soldier in hopes of achieving the desired revenge against the villains that took everything from him.

 

This set him on the path to make him the man he was today.

 

And yet, despite all that happened in between now and the time when this Utopia was his to grasp, he never forgot how the air tingled on his tongue and how clean even the worm infested dirt felt under his fingers.

 

It was impossible and yet Seunghyun could not help but feel at rest.

 

An unfamiliar peace fell over his soul even as he found his body wracked with agony.

 

A heavy cough tore through his lungs, shaking him like a child in the winter. Seunghyun soon found a warm iron flavored syrup falling from his lips in bursts, a long string reaching down and touching the petals of a flower, a pink moss phlox, and dying it that hideous and yet familiar shade of red.

 

Red.

 

Blood.

 

His own blood.

 

His heart continued to race violently like it were about to rupture. Somehow, some kind of terrible injury must have befallen him. It only made sense.

 

But how? This place was no battlefield and surely if this was a place for white magic, he would have seen a healer by now.

It was strange. It was as though there was something very important he was untrusted with doing, but no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't seem to remember what it was.

No, he felt it. Seunghyun soon found himself trapped in the paradise he had fought to avenge for years, confused as how he ended up her to begin with.

 

Breath hitching in his throat, sore surely from overuse of his voice, he place his weight on his hands in hopes of further support.

 

Almost as though his hope and wanting it to be there pulled it into existence somehow, upon reaching out his hands the cool and smooth freckled skin of a tree touched his fingertips tenderly and he quickly used it to pull himself up.

 

Every second of the action was agonizing. He felt the shredding of his muscles on broken bones like the hot edge of a blade, every heartbeat making him want to give up and go to sleep in the dirt of his home like a dog.

 

But then he stopped.

 

With a death grip upon the tree's feeble trunk, Seunghyun found himself pausing in his tracks when something came into his vision.

 

The warrior found himself confused like a small child, furrowing his brow and glaring heavily at the face he found residing but a few inches away from his own.

A familiar young man who Seunghyun could scarcely dream of forgetting.

Jiyong. The second oldest prince of the country that took him in like an orphan on the roadside. A monarch of the richest kingdom on the continent, one of the only places left powerful and brave enough to fight their end of a war against the horde.

"....Y-You're majesty....." Seunghyun coughed out weakly, a fresh string of blood falling down his chin.

Jiyong was soft in appearance and nature. His face was beautiful, wise and childish at once. He was Seunghyun's age and yet his skin was pure, his body without scars or blemishes. His deep brown eyes were like garnets, captivating in an ethereal and magical way, still bright with innocent wonder and curiosity, almost luminescent behind the veil of messy black hair.

The prince who was a brat. 

The prince who was spoiled mercilessly by his mother.

The prince who refused to eat when he didn't have his way. 

The prince who was loud at the worst of times to lighten the mood. 

The prince who had the most eccentric sense of fashion the kingdom had ever seen.

The prince who put his family and friends above all else.

The prince who was the hardest on himself.

But Jiyong should not be here, his mind thought relentlessly, he should be out of harm's way.

Yet, despite how he wished the vision away, he did not vanish.

He just kept looking into Seunghyun's eyes silently, listlessly, like he saw clearly but didn't quite understand what it was he saw.

Seunghyun would have shouted at him if he had more strength.

He would have cursed him, demanding he flee as far away from here as possible because surely whatever danger had laid claim to the guardian would do no different to the young prince if he remained.

But there was no fear in Jiyong's eyes. There never was. All that remained in gaze was that same understanding peace Seunghyun had felt.

Despite all his intuition, the warrior felt it in his bones that the monsters were all gone and that he and his charge were safe here, wherever they were but there was something Seunghyun knew without a doubt he had forgotten.

Something that frightened a warrior like himself.

Something that made him feel far too small in comparison.

".... Y-You're...." He began yet again.

Oddly enough, as Seunghyun often was on a daily basis, he found he was caught off guard when his charge flashed him that same vibrant smile.

And alas, Jiyong held out his hand, presenting it to the warrior, and spoke.

"Remember when you used to give me dancing lesson. I do. I can't imagine why you stopped."

Seunghyun was not entirely sure what to say in response.

"... What?"

"You were an excellent teacher, Seunghyun." Jiyong continued, eyes trailing into the distance as he recalled the fond memory, "I may not be the best student, but I have practiced quite a bit."

A silence fell over forest as he watched Jiyong's eyes grow just a bit brighter. 

"Would you like me to..." Jiyong whispered, "...Show you?".

 

And reaching down, Jiyong did not hesitate to take the older boys hand into his, grasping it tightly and pulling it forward.

Panic welled up inside inside warrior as the movement caused pain to ripple through his body. He groaned in agony, doubling over. Nausea washed over him, rendering him weak and feeble like leaves in the wind.

But his eyes met Jiyong’s yet again, who only smiled at him.

“ I-I-I…. Can't….” Seunghyun's teeth clattered together as he spoke.

But the prince yet again, just smiled. He seemed so calm and reserved. It was quite unlike him but Seunghyun was hardly sane enough to tell.

“You can.” Jiyong whispered, “You needn't let pain limit you here.”

He took hold of his hand yet again. Seunghyun was visibly hesitant.

He was afraid of the pain. He dreaded it so very much.

“Just trust me.” 

The warrior was weak, he knew. He wasn't like the prince who never seemed afraid of even the worst of monsters.

The warriors entire persona, his every design to protect himself was built on the foundation of fear.

He knew better than anyone that he was pathetic, childish, selfish, but he just couldn't bare the agony. 

“Just this once, please trust me.”

He could not bare getting to his feet and taking that leap of faith to an unknown fate.

But then their eyes met again, their gaze saying inaudible apologies, and Seunghyun realized Jiyong asked this of him, not because he held no fear for pain, but because he himself needed it.

Because he needed to see that he still held hope.

And so, the warrior gathered his courage.

He would be brave even if it was just a facade, before the dream took off on the white wings of a bird.

And with that thought as his only thought, Seunghyun got to his feet.

He felt no pain, not even a little bit, and yet when he took Jiyong into his arms and danced the familiar dances of his childhood with him just like they used to, he could not hold back his tears.

There was a weight upon his heart. He knew it, but he ignored it and let Jiyong wipe the tears away.

This moment was perfect.

Something Seunghyun remembered quite clearly was just how enraged he became when he learned that same young prince would be put in his charge, that he was to protect the boy with his life.

Seunghyun had worked himself so hard for revenge and revenge alone, to bring judgment upon those that had wronged him in a past still fresh on his mind, not to protect a sheltered childish brat who had not seen a day of battle in his life.

He was so angry, he thought he might explode when, in truth, he was afraid.

He was afraid he would fail.

The warrior had spent so much time slaying the horde and bringing destruction upon the enemies of the kingdom that the idea of protecting something came new to him. He didn't think he really knew how to keep someone like Jiyong safe from the dangers of the world when he himself only felt sane when he sought them out.

The fact that the prince was alive scared him even more than death because Seunghyun just didn't know how to live for something he knew he could lose.

He didn't know if he could take something like that again. 

That was a eight years ago and he was still just as afraid as he was then because somewhere in between buying bizarre and unneeded fur hats to add to Jiyong's collection and having to chase him through the marketplace when the prince just wanted some time to himself, it didn't take Seunghyun long to realize he had grown quite hopelessly fond of that one special monarch who dared to treat a lowlife like him like a human being.

And a part of Seunghyun knew, in that moment, that he waltzed upon the vectors of a dream, but he did not allow such sharp thoughts to exist in mind, knowing the dream would fray and unravel before he ever got the chance to breathe.

And so he danced, leaving his fears and sorrows at the door.

He didn't let himself think of this final dance but rather deceived himself into thinking it might last forever and just a little bit longer.

He allowed himself to sink deeper knowing this person he held close would not be there when he woke up.

The warrior did not know who it was he met once upon that familiar forest, be it illusion or a final farewell.

Somehow it did not matter.

Somehow, it never did.

 

“Yesterday night when I”  
“Held hands with you and danced”  
“With your radiantly glowing and”  
“Beautiful One last smile”  
“Red orange yellow green”  
“An ecstasy I can’t know”  
“It doesn’t go with the world”  
“That I used to see and feel”


End file.
